Judgment Day
by koali29
Summary: This is based on the sequel to the White Queen: The White Princess. This story focuses on the series finale, in which Lizzie must make a crucial decision to ensure her son's succession.
1. Royal Decision

The words of the Lady Margaret drummed in her ear. "Would she not do anything to protect her children?" Night after night, Elizabeth slept fretfully trying to determine her next steps. "What is it, Lizzie, a bad dream?" Henry would ask, concern etched across his face. Elizabeth woke up wide-eyed and shaking. She heard Lady Margaret's words, but she also heard the stern warning of the Spanish ambassador, de Puebla, that the alliance between her son, Arthur, and princess Catherine of Aragon would be severed if certain guarantees were not meant. All challengers, legitimate or false, must be eliminated so that not one soul would doubt the legitimacy of King Henry's claim nor would they doubt the union of England and Spain. Spain would not send their prized princess to be wed to an illegitimate thief of the throne. Elizabeth knew what that meant, but she did not want to contemplate it.

She had already begged Henry to save the lives of both her cousin, Teddy, and the Prince Ri...the pretender, Perkin Warbeck. She had tried to avoid the inevitable, to hang some lowly delinquent in the name of the pretender, but de Puebla knew the truth. How? Maggie - it had to have been her. No longer the weeping, wilting flower, she had played the role of the spy, proffering information to the Duchess of Burgundy who, along with her coterie of conspirators, planned to overthrow the king, directly jeopardizing the future of her son.

She had to stop this. All their carefully calculated plans would be destroyed if she did not make her move. The words again of the Lady Mother again rang in her ears. She had confronted the Lady Margaret with the fact that she was a murderer, a cold-hearted woman who consented to the deaths of two innocent boys. No, two boys that threatened the reign of her son...her son who was now a king, a husband, a father.

For the longest, Elizabeth resented Henry's robbery of the throne that rightfully belonged to her brother, Richard. She and her mother initially worked together to formulate a plan to undermine Henry's rule, to be patient and bide their time until they could strike. However, as the years passed, her heart softened to him. Her mother had noticed the change very early on, particularly after Arthur's birth. There was something in her that began to feel for Henry. Somehow the idea of revenge became less palatable to her after the birth. In order for Arthur to have a chance to inherit, she realized that she and Henry needed to cooperate to ensure that he is accepted and respected by England. During this partnership, feelings, ineffable at first, began to rise slowly within her. What she had heard about the Tudors from her mother seemed an elaborate tale. Henry was not a cruel, dictatorial sovereign looking to corrupt England. In fact, he was a young ruler searching for the best ways to lead the people, to be a proper overlord for all.

She watched the guards drag Teddy, the deposed Earl of Warwick, outside on that fateful day. The boy had been locked in the Tower for years, a symbol of the repressed York rebellion. He was simple, a young, gullible man who could barely form a coherent sentence much less mastermind a plot to escape, gather forces and reignite the insurrection against the king. But he signed his name on the parchment acknowledging his treason. For that, he had to pay the ultimate price. The pretender walked with more confidence, he knew his fate but he seemed more resigned. Had he been smart enough to set aside this foolish claim and taken the offer of mercy she offered both he and his wife, her hand would not have been forced. By foolishly clinging to this charade, she had been left with no other alternative.


	2. The Pretender

Teddy instantly began weeping when he saw the stairs leading up to the stump. Like a puppy afraid of thunder, he trembled and whimpered, begging Ric...Perkin to make it stop. The pretender looked at Teddy with tenderness, but steel determination. He knew instantly what would happen and who was to blame. Whether or not Lizzie believed him to be her blood, he had never known the Queen of England to be cruel. Tales of her renowned kindness traveled far across the land. This was the same woman who ordered spending during the sweating sickness to help her fellow countrymen. It shocked him...for the briefest of moments, but then he understood. The words about her had been true: She is a Tudor Queen, committed to ensuring the continuation of her husband's legacy. So, this is how she eliminates the threats - in a small alley, no witnesses, no king present, no one but herself and her henchmen. A small smile snaked across his lips in appreciation. She knew he would never surrender his claim to the throne, and she would never allow another to question either her husband or her son's position. He had to be brave for Teddy's sake. "Teddy, you have to lie down and be still," he stated, calmly but sternly to the trembling boy. Teddy slowly inched his head closer to the stump, tears streaming down his face, despite his lack of intellect, his hand clutched desperately to Richard's. He did as he was told, and the ax quickly drove into this neck, his hand still firmly grasping Richard's. Unshed tears threatened to spill from Richard's eyes. Henry always thought of Teddy as a threat to the throne, but poor simple Teddy knew nothing of royalty, treachery, or conspiracy. The only way he would have been a ruler is as a puppet to an unseen hand, being molded and contorted by advisors ambitious in their political statuses. Perhaps that is what she feared that some greedy lord might have tried to clutch their talons into Teddy.

Staring at the severed body, the eyes glazed over and blood pouring from the neck; he vowed to not die in such an undignified manner. Whatever she or anyone believed, he had the right to the throne; he would claim that right until the blade cut his life from this world. The henchmen dropped the lifeless corpse into a coffin, a single coffin. He understood now, for they had already "executed and buried" the Pretender, at least in the public's eyes. No need to waste another coffin - they would probably burn his body or dump it in the river. But no matter what they did Lizzie, standing there shielded under the hood, would forever remember the judgment she passed on this day.


End file.
